Dawn of the Dragon Age
by FullMoon1989
Summary: The fallen dragon queen has risen again by the hands of the priestess Kinvara within the depths of old Valyria with no memory of her past. The seven kingdoms hope to reach an unprecedented era of peace. Sansa tries to unite a newly independent nation with the help of Lord Manderly's young son. Will Daenerys realise her true place within the world ? or will she fall into old habits.
1. Prologue

Prologue

The air thinned, the wind seemed to howl louder and blow faster than before while Jon's voice locked in his throat.

"They don't get to choose."

Those words wrapped around him until he was suffocating. The man looked at the beautiful woman whom he loved so much. The queen he had pledged his life towards. For a moment he looked back onto when he pledged himself to her what seemed like a lifetime ago. The courageous and selfless woman that he had faith in. A Targaryen who fought for and believed in all the right things.

Was that wrong?

Was _she_ wrong?

Somewhere deep down, he knew.. He knew in what has left of his heart that it had to be true.

Years of grief and abuse and such close proximity to ultimate power must have distorted her views.

But maybe she was right.

What if she was the only one who could see the bigger picture. A good world. A world of mercy. Who are we to judge from our stance right?... but at the same time, who is someone drowned in grief and anger and hatred to judge from her stance. Jon felt a wrench to his heart when he remembered what he had seen, what Dany had done.

She was so beautiful. She had new stress lines around her once smooth complexion and hints of dark circles underneath her eyes but she was still the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Her flowing thick silver hair tied away in intricate braids. He loved to run his fingers through it, examine the dynamic ways in which she tied it, and their many cultural meanings routed in Dothraki tradition. He saw her approach, closing in on him with a hopeful and optimistic look upon her beautiful face.

"Be with me." She almost whispered.

"Build the new world with me, this is our reason!".

She moved in closer. Jon's emotions began to swell. It wasn't too late, he could turn back. Honor his pledge to his queen. The queen that would bring about the change needed with in the seven kingdoms. He could watch as his queen climbed those steps and sat on her throne. Or he could watch as that dream slowly deteriorated within her misguided state. He had to choose and he had to choose soon.

"It has been from the beginning since you were a boy with a bastards name, and I was a girl who couldn't count to twenty. We do it together."

He noticed a spark in her eye. One he had never seen before, though whether it was a spark of hope or a spark of madness he could not tell.

"We break the wheel, _together_".

It was at this moment, he knew the truth.

"You are my Queen. Now. And always".

Jon gazed apon her face one more time before shutting his eyes forever and letting himself be consumed in the abyss. When his lips touched hers. Everything melted away. Nothing else mattered. Their Targaryen relation which all those centuries ago had put him off. Perhaps if he had loved her then. Perhaps if he had kissed her then, the way he kissed her now. He could have saved her. If he hadn't been so foolish. So rigid.

Alas, there was little purpose on blame now. She was a dream. A beautiful dream. And it was time to wake up.

The next thing Jon remembered was holding his love in his arms as Daenerys's strength began to leave her. The look on her face was of utter horror and betrayal. He would never be able to live with what he had just done. He watched his Queen as the light left her eyes as he lowered to the ground. That spark, whether it had been hope or madness, he would never know. Daenerys drew her final breath. The moment she was dead, Jon had died with her. He lay her on the ground as his emotions stopped him from being able to function.

He hears the dragon's distress as Drogon flies through the whole in the wall and tries to revive his mother's lifeless body. Jon must have been the cruelest most evil person who ever lived. Had he just ended Westeros's last chance for a good world. What if this had been the plan all along and he had ruined it.

Drogon, in his grief, looked apon Jon, bearing his teeth. Jon's emptiness then became replaced with a moment of anticipation as the Queens dragon looked to be preparing to finnish him off. Jon welcomed death. He had nothing left to live for, and unlike his beloved queen, he was not immune to fire.

It's what he deserved. It was more than what he deserved.

As Drogon prepared for it, Jon ducked and turned away. But it never came. He forced his eyes open and watched as the throne forged with their ancestor Aegon's fallen enemies was melted by the very beast from which it was forged. The throne had ruined his queen. The throne had killed her just as much as he did. But Jon didn't see it that way. He never would.

The beast picked up his mother in his claw and then flew off and that was that.

—

Drogon in his misery flew high and low, eastwards and across the narrow sea. He glided through the disputed lands and entered the lands of old Valyria where he was greeted with two old friends who had been awaiting his arrival.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Kinvara had waited for this moment for a long time. She had arrived prepared. She had seen many visions in the fire instructing her to visit the ancient lands of Valyria. Although many never returned from the doom, Kinvara was able to enter under the guidance of the Lord of Light. She was able to find the remains of the greatest empire in memory. In a small village hidden within the fourteen flames, populated by Valyrian survivors of the doom who resided in restored doom was still very much felt however given the isolation these people felt, being unknown to. The outside world, protected bythe doom. Once she had told the people of her visions and the expected arrival of the Mother of Dragons, the people rejoyced to know their ancient prophecy was upon them.

Their village elder. Myraeni had many suspicions. She was a non believer whom she would have personally seen to the purification of under any other circumstance. She needed her friendship though. This was helped by the shadowbinder from Asshai who had arrived shortly before.

The sorceress from Asshai who was named Quaithe.

She had arrived with similar messages. She had brought a Dothraki man along with her from the bay of dragons the man claimed to be the queens Dothraki bloodrider and was even present at the birth of her dragons. Quaithe seemed to believe him and so Kinvara took her word for it. He was talented in the Valyrian tongue aswell as Dothraki, which much helped his case.

His name was Kovarro.

It was a windy yet bright morning when Kinvara had sensed the beasts nearing presence, and what the creature had brought with him.

Kinvara and her old friend Quaithe, waited by the old delapitated temple. The valyrians believed that a bright morning was a good omen. Given the continuous smoke that filled the sky and the dark magic that haunted the places borders, it was not hard to see why. Fog also meant that the grey men had been near. These were men infected with the disease grey scale and although powerful incantations kept them far away and at bay, the Valyrian people still feared.

She looked up into the polluted sky and saw a shadow emerge closer and closer from beyong the ash mixed clouds. The beast then broke through the mist, flapping his wings frantically as he landed atop the ruins of the temple. He was screaming in anguish.

The mother of dragons's body was laid before them. The villagers lifted her into the temple and the priestess got to work.

She lay the dragon queen's body on a runed slab of stone once she had been disrobed and the knife had been removed from her ribs. Kinvara felt a wave of doubt wash over her before remembering that she can only serve her lord to the best of her ablity and so promptly began the ceremony.

She began with cleaning the girl's stab wound. Since the blade had entered, it had festered and would likely leave an unpleasant scar if this was to work.

She then chanted "She will rise again" once in the old tongue of Asshai, once in old Ghis and once in Valyrian. While she did this, she held a pair of scissors and began to cut off all of the girl's many thick braids, dropping each one into the fire to her left. Everytime she did so, she could hear a distorted whisper. As if R'hollor was getting closer and closer with the soul that had once belonged to the body. She washed the body once more. Having the girl's hands cleaned, her wounds were washed again. Kinvara washed the queen's now hacked off remains of hair with water while repeating the phrase "She will rise again".

Once this was done, the preistess placed her warm hands apon the cold and lifeless body and spoke the words afew more times before saying in valyrian; "I offer my faith and service unto you my lord, may you revive this soul and return her to us".

Once the ritual was complete, Kinvara took afew steps back and waited.

There were 4 people present and the ritual. Near the doorway stood the Dothraki man Kovarro and the Valyrian village elder, Myraeni. Kinvara had hoped that she hadn't gotten their hopes up as they watched with anticipation. Beside the priestess now stood Quaithe, the sorceress whom had watched over the queen during her years in mereen.

They stood and waited for a long time, seeing the sun finally dissapear and set into the west while the moon rose up growing stronger in the east. This was when the Breaker of Chains was finally reborn. She gaspped for air and began to try to get up. This is when Quaithe and Kovarro rushed to help her up. Myraeni simply stood and watched with amazement. It took the support of two full people to prevent Daenerys from falling to her knees.

She was weak, but her strength would grow in time.

Myraeni left to fetch some women to return with clothing to dress the girl in. The women went and helped Daenerys into a simple white dress with purple lining. The newborn Queen then said in a shaky but faint whisper; "where am I ?".

Daenerys was frightened and confused. She couldnt remember anything about her state or how she came to be here.

She only remembered one thing.

She remembered looking up at a man as she lost herstrength and faded out of consciousness.

She didnt know this man but he was all she could remember. She looked up at the people before her. There stood a tall and well groomed woman dressed in red, a masked, tall and lean one dressed in gold and red intricate clothing, and a woman who looked alot like her, with silver hair and lilac eyes even. Though she was clearly older, perhaps by 30 years or so. She appeared to be shocked. To the rear, stood a tall man with a long braid handing over his shoulder. He was in bowing position to Daenerys's confusion.

"Greetings". The beautiful woman in red said. "I am Kinvara, High Priestess of The Red Temple of Volantis, the Flame of Truth, the Light of Wisdom, and First servant of the Lord of Light".

Daenerys struggled to keep her gaze up for long. Once the priestess was finnished speaking, Dany's eyes roled back and she fainted out of consiousness.

—

It had not been long since Brandon of House Stark, first of his name, King of the Andals and the Roynar, protector of the realm, three eyed raven and lord of the six kingdoms had taken residense in the red keep. Repairs were still taking place and king's landing was still in a considerable state. The third meeting of the small council was about to commence. Tyrion sat at the head of the table as hand of the king and awaited the arrival of the rest of his council.

First entered Sir Bronn of the blackwater, Lord Paramount of the Reach and Master of Coin. Sir Davos Seaworth was second to enter as Master of Ships. He was followed by Arch Maester Samwell Tarly and Lord Commander of the King's guard Sir Brienne of Tarth wheeling in said King.

They all sat down, Bran on the other head of the table sitting across from Lord Tyrion. After a long and awkward silence, Sir Davos began by saying " Most of the Dothraki and all of the unsullied have departed to all their respective locations."

"And I trust that you have ensured that the ships return once they have been feried where they all wish to have gone." Tyrion added. "Most certainly" Sir Davos replied.

"Very good." Said the hand. He fiddled with the rimm of the table before looking at Bran. "And the whereabouts of the dragon ?".

The young King looked into the dwarf's eyes and said "Last I saw, he was heading towards old Valyria. It appears though, that I cannot see into the doom".

"As long as he's not here, I dont see the need for concern" uttered Bronn.

Lord Tyrion knew the new king well enough to tell that there was need for concern however.

There was a short pause before Sir Davos came in and stated "Well as long as Daenerys is gone, the 7 kingdoms finally have an opportunity for peace".

—

The nights were longer in Valyria. Daenerys looked out onto the fourteen flames from the balcony of her chambers. She saw the night time mist coat her surroundings. In the distance, sheep were grazing and children were playing. It was an intresting sight to see a people so alive within a land so dead. There were mountains and dormant volcanos protecting the village from the outside world, and the worst of the doom. Here lay the eye of the hurricane, protecting her people from the doom. She had been told that these were her people.

Her _true_ people.

They called her the Mother of Dragons, among many other titles, claiming she was destined to restore Valyria to it's former glory, but how could she truly get to know a people, if she didn't know herself. She looked very sickly and pale. The sorceress Quaithe had told her. that she'd been dead for days when she awoke, and that her corpse had began to deteriorate. She had now lost alot of the colour in her face aging her and giving her a harsh appearance. Her hair had now been cut propperly since the priestess had apparently chopped off all her braids. During the ritual. Her very short hair was now closely cropped to her head which she hated. She raised her hand towards her head to feel it when she saw her dragon aproach from the distance.

Drogon was the only one whom Daenerys felt completely safe around. He felt familiar and they seemed to have a connection of sorts between them as if she knew him in a past life. She headed down to meet him outside. Drogon was a large and terrifying black beast with a roar that could crumble nations into dust, but the creature seemed to answer to only her. He would even let her ride and steer him.

This must've been why she was called the mother of dragons. She wondered if there were more of these creatures within the outside world.

She mounted her beast and this time, let him take her wherever he would please.

He flew over all the inhabbited but aged buildings, under the watchful gaze of the night sky. They soon began to approach one of the volcanos enclosing the settlement. She had been told that the volcanos had been dormant since the doom and that she should not worry. When drogon eventually landed on the the ground, Dany saw that he had lead her to a cave on the side of the Volcano. She looked apon the ancient creature before turning around to venture within the cave.

The inside was luminous and she could see within without any natural source of light. The further she walked in, her dragon following closely behind her, the more of a magical presence she felt. It were as if she was being summoned by a super natural being of sorts. Eventually, the large and spacious passage lead to an opennig.

She entered and before her, to her surprise lay three large and scaled eggs which must have been dragon eggs. Drogon lay down and embraced the eggs as Daenerys looked on in wonder. She felt drawn towards them as if they were her own.

Drogon then covered them with his wing and dozed off to sleep.

Daenerys tried to examine her surroundings when she heard a voice behind her.

"They are yours, Khaleesi"

In fright, Daenerys quickly turned back to see that it was the man with the long braid.

She was thrown back that she understood his words, although they were not valyrian. She was even more surprised when she found herself speaking back in that same language;

"Who are you?". There was no answer. "Who are you truly?".

The man then bowed and said "I am yours, Khaleesi, my name is Kovarro, blood rider to Khal Drogo before blood rider to you, Khaleesi of the great grass sea, breaker of chains, mother of dragons".

Even more confused, she told the young man to rise saying that there is no need to serve her.

"Did I… Once know you?".

"Know you ? I was there when you emerged from your husbands funeral pyre unharmed. Unharmed nursing three baby dragons. It was that day that I swore to serve you, the day your Khallisar swore to serve you Khaleesi".

These words seemed to flip a switch within Dany's mind. She saw it now; she was mourning the death of someone, someone important to her. She lit a fire.. and.. walked into it.

She remembered now, standing before a group of people while they all bowed.

She remembered that feeling, the feeling of being loved by her people. Her subjects who world follow her anywhere. But they werent her subjects were they.. no.. the word that kept playing over and over in her head.. Khalisar… yes… her Khalisar.

Pictures flashed within her mind, a man who looked like her, a cousin or brother perhaps with molten gold being pured onto his head, killing him brutally. This picture did not distress her though. Then she saw another man, in battle with a Dothraki warrior. He was not a member of the Dothraki himself though, he had fairer skin. A bear came to mind when trying to picture him although she did not know why.

Last of all she could see it, herself with three baby dragons. One was nimble and cream coloured, another was green and bronze. And finally, a much larger black dragon with flecks of red. Could that have been drogon? It were almost of as if those dragons appeared to be her children. If this was the case.. Where were her other two children ? Were they out there somewhere, freely roaming the world? Daenerys felt a clench within her stomach whenever she thought of them which gave her an unpleasant feeling.

She looked back at Kovarro, her dothraki blood rider, and said "Blood of my blood, how did I get here?

Kovarro looked apon her with a blank face

"I do not know. Khaleesi, I remained in the bay of dragons when you sailed west. I do not know what fate had bestowed on you after you left".

This statement brought Dany back into a state of confusion.

There was a long pause before her bloodrider spoke again.

"You woke dragons out of stone, and now you must do it again".

Daenerys now realized how much she truly had to learn.


	3. Chapter 2

Defeating the Night King and all his undead soldiers may have prevented the long night, but did little in the way of tempering the winter. The maesters must have been correct in saying that this would be the coldest winter in centuries.

Atop his mount, Jon raised his hood to keep the cold air from biting into his face. He turned his head to the right to shelter himself from the blizzard. He looked upon his traveling companion Tormund Giantsbane who to Jon's dismay, didn't seem to be bothered at all by the blizzard, as if it were a cool breeze, which he treated as such.

"Ay, I've got to give it to you southerners, you know how to build".

The two were overseeing the reconstruction and restoration of Hardhome, the largest wildling settlement. The last time the two had been there, it had been against the night king and his undead army. Jon tried to shrug the thought away. It was unpleasant.

"I grew up here, I remember when the camp would stretch beyond the. horizon, bustling and filled with families, men, woman, children. Now look at us… a bunch of sad little fuckers we are".

Jon could see that he was not the only one with bittersweet memories of the place.

"I never congratulated you"

"For what ?" Jon forced out his mouth.

Tormund steered his stallion around so that he was facing Jon. "Being elected 1000th Lord Commander of the Nights Watch."

"Ai, Has there been that many already". There was no reply, and if there was, the freezing winds had drowned them out.

"You never told me what happened back there".

Those words cut through Jon like a dagger made of ice. It seemed as though everything had stopped as if the world waited in anticipation for his answer. He knew what Tormund meant and he hadn't told anyone in detail what had happened. He wondered if news travelled this far north, or how fast.

"I killed her"

Speaking of it didn't hurt him as much as he dreaded it would. It didn't make him feel good or bad, he simply just felt nothing. A part of him really had died with Daenerys.

Tomund sighed and shook his head.

"I'm sure it was the right"—

"Well it doesnt feel right" Jon snapped.

Nothing made a sound except for the diminished winds blowing by

Jon took a sharp breath

"I loved her, I do still love her, I.. I". Jon began to tear up. "She'll always be my Queen, but towards the end… She lost herself.

"Listen Jon". Tormund steadied his mount who began to become agitated.

"If you continue to blame yourself, your guilt will consume you."

"Ay".

There was another silence, only this one was not awkward like before, it was somehow comforting.

"Y'know we may be a smaller people than before, and we're finally at peace but…. Peace is fragile. We could use a middle man, a man who unites people, we could use a king beyond the wall".

"My duty is to the watch, I swore an oath".

"The same oath that made you swear off women".

"That's the one".

"Well maybe its a good thing. Winter rages on up here and recourses are scarce. Maybe we can open up trade with those flowery fuckers down south"

"You mean north"

"I don't mean the real north. Listen, that sister of yours is Queen of Winterfell now. Perhaps you could talk with her. Work out some trade. Food is more scarce than ever. We may need each other now more than ever."

Jon stopped talking and thought for a moment. His little sister, the girl who played princess games with her dolls. The little girl who had always referred to him as her "half-brother". The girl who saved his sorry ass at the battle of the bastards. Now ruler of the North. Jon looked back at his companion as the wind began to pick up again.

"Perhaps we could arrange something".

—

Sansa remembered the long nights she would spend staying up talking to her mother. One of the things Catelyn would have said to her often was how much her father hated the council meetings he would hold with his banner men. Sansa always had thought that it sounded awfully boring.

She had always dreamed of being Queen.

Even in her earliest memories. She dreamed of marrying a gallant and handsome prince and she would be the beautiful Queen of a beautiful kingdom.

She was not so ignorant as she once was. Though the council meetings still bored her all the same.

She had assembled all the major lords to yet another council meeting. Another feeble attempt at creating some order.

They all sat around a table with herself at the head, The only woman in the room yet the one of highest status.

"Your Grace, if you please, we need to lower the rations, at the way it is now, our supplies wont last longer than a year at most." One lord said.

Another stood up and insisted, "Ay, you would rather have my men starve first. Then we wont run out of food then will we ?"

"We're already spread too thin, we must supply our builders and allocate banner men for our Queen, to rule the Dreadfort, Last Hearth and Deepwood Motte" Another replied.

"Thats enough my Lords. We need to solve this problem at the root."

A young man stood up. He had light skin which contrasted with his long raven black hair. He somewhat resembled Sansa's brother, only he was taller with straighter and longer hair. He he also had a smaller nose and his sea-green eyes were more far apart than her brother Jon. Sansa did not recognize him and searched for clues on his clothing. There was a Trident sewn onto his worn out green cape. The sigil of house Manderly.

Sansa recalled what Maester Luwin had taught her when she was a girl; House Manderly was the richest and one of the more prominent northern houses, Their seat was New Castle in White Harbor, a port city that generated more revenue than any other northern settlement. This was through trade of course.

"If we lower tariffs on southern trade, we can generate far more money, if it please your grace."

Sansa looked upon the young Manderly lord who must have been Lord Wyman's son and heir. Given Lord Wyman's passing in the battle for the dawn, this would make him the new Lord of White Harbour.

"And what would you have us do with this money? What good is money when we have nothing to spend it on. By raising taxes on the southern front we discourage trade and we'll receive even less food than we had before"

The man shook his head and began to speak.

"Your grace, we can use that money to buy more food from the south and East, If we don't do something… I fear the worst. Winter rages on and we're not under the rule of the iron throne anymore, we must do something". He sat back down

Sansa raised her hand to dismiss the meeting. As everyone began to funnel out, she managed to catch the eye of the Manderly boy.

"Lord Manderly" she called out.

"Stay"

The Manderly boy edged closer. "Your Grace, Lord Wyndin Manderly is my brother, he sent me in his stead", he said. Sansa stared at him intimidatingly, waiting for him to introduce himself. There was a rather awkward silence. Eventually the man spoke, "Um.. I am Sir Willem Manderly… your Grace." He bowed before sitting back down. Once everyone had left the room, Sansa spoke. "And I suppose… Sir Willem Manderly that your brother feels that it would be wise to lower tariffs upon our southern border." Willem. Opened up a scroll and moved it in her direction. "We believe that since the other kingdoms are no longer obligated- "

"Since the other kingdoms are no longer obligated to provide aid for the north, the will be discouraged by a tax raise." Sansa interrupted.

"My Queen, I understand, but we need more money. We need to pay our builders and our soldiers, we cannot have our kingdom recede into poverty". Sansa looked at the scroll, appearing to be almost swayed. She considered what this man had said. She stood up and looked down upon Willem. She dismissed him and sat down to ponder on what he had said.

—

Grey Worm was distraught. His plan to settle on and protect Naath had failed spectacularly. He had sent 5 of his most trusted men out to speak with the Naathi, when they never returned, Grey Worm had feared the most. He then sent 20 more. It was when those men had not returned when the Unsullied started investigating. This was how the butterfly fever was discovered.

"The butterfly fever, a horrific plague which makes its victims violently spasm and die. The Naathi are immune to this local disease, which is theorised to be carried by the butterflies of the island. The Naathi claim that no invader has ever maintained a permanent presence on the island for more than a single year."

It perplexed him to wonder why his dear Missandei had never told him of the disease. After hours of contemplation, it occurred to Grey Worm that Missandei had likely never known about the disease that plagued foreign invaders. She was, of course, captured and taken away at a young age and must have never been taught about it.

This left Grey Worm feeling as if he had nothing to live for. His dear and beloved Missandei gone, his wise and selfless Queen Daenerys butchered, his purpose, no more.

All that was left for him and his men was to return to The Bay of Dragons and hope to keep the peace in the name of their Queen. They were sailing eastwards when the crew felt the doom calling to them as they neared The Ancient Ruins of Valyria. What ever it was, it was heard whispering in the winds, and seemed to direct their currents and the waters surrounding the ships. It was only when they found themselves sailing straight into the mist that they acknowledged what appeared to almost be a summoning…. Or a reckoning.

Grey Worm had never been much of a spiritual person, nor had any of the other unsullied men. It went against their "My soul duty is to serve my Master" mentality. It was only when he like so many others had found Daenerys Stormborn that he became less skeptical. That was why when the mist had lead his men into the doom, that he began to hear whispers among his crew. Whispers that said that they were descending into hell for failing to serve their master. She was seen as a bit of a God-like figure after all.

Although he'd never sailed through the doom of Valyrian before, there was something eerily familiar about his surroundings. He could almost hear the sounds of dragons flying overhead. The air was very thin down here and the wind blowing by sounded almost like the cries of dragons.

This place was home to hundreds once upon a time after all.

The crew had began to grow restless, some claiming they saw a creature flying above while others accusing them of succumbing to the madness of the doom.

Suddenly everything went quiet.

The wind stopped howling, the waters below even seemed to still. The soldiers looked around, dumbfounded until an unsullied cried "Look out!", Pointing behind the fleet.

Greyworm had turned around just in time before he was caught under the shadow of an enormous crimson wing. To Grey Worm's wonder and dismay, the crimson beast ascended back into the sky and disappeared as he flew further and further. Through all the pandemonium, Grey Worm was able to make out the words "Drogon" and "Guide" from his panicked henchmen.

In the corner of his eye, he then saw another silhouette, a woman. Through all the chaos he seemed to be able to hear her thoughts; she spoke to him in Valyrian. She said "Follow me to your Queen". Grey Worm had never been a very spiritual person, but he took this as a very important message and proceeded to order his men to lay an anchor into the water.


End file.
